Escape From Djandjuise
by Saucery
Summary: In which the young Yoda evades a gambling syndicate, runs away from home, inadvertently rescues a prostitute and discovers the Jedi Order. All in a day's work for our little green man!


The bustling spaceport of Djandjuise had more than enough to offer a youthful wanderer, particularly one as intrepid as Yoda. Diminutive, elfin and green in more ways than one, this young wayfarer had enough curiosity in him to kill a few thousand Terran cats, and possibly a molark, too.

He'd left home under less than ideal circumstances. Being able to sense events before they happened was quite a gift, but it had gotten out of hand after a gambling syndicate had sniffed him out and sought to, er, _acquire_ his services. Placing his family at risk by staying on his homeworld was out of the question - not to mention that, as much as he loved his parents, Yoda felt the pull of distant and spectacular things. An interstellar adventure was just what he needed.

"You're a dreamer," his mother had sighed.

"You're a twit," his father had said, far more resignedly. "But know that there is always a home for you here, brat."

And so Yoda had left. The Hutts - in charge of that damned persistent gambling syndicate - had veered off nicely in the direction of Sondhin, the planet Yoda had fooled them into believing he was fleeing to. A bit of ship-hopping and logs-hacking had accomplished that. His parents were safe. And so was he - for now.

As safe as a teenager could be on Djandjuise, anyhow.

Not many people would've guessed that Yoda was a teenager. His body appeared entirely prepubescent; his ears had yet to grow tufts, which was embarrassing, and even most of his own people would've thought him a child. Aliens, Yoda had realized soon after leaving his home planet, were even _more_ likely to think of Yoda as a child; he let them believe it, for the most part, because it had unexpected advantages. Lighter penalties if he was caught stowing away, for example - although that hardly ever happened - and sheer obliviousness to his presence or any perception of him as a potential threat. Sneaking in and out of ports and past security points had been made a lot easier, especially if Yoda employed his I'm-a-guileless-child-la-la-la routine.

His resistance to aging was a mystery. As was his outrageously good luck; somehow, Yoda had hunches that just happened to lead him to the right place at the right time, and he'd escaped by the skin of his teeth more often than he cared to admit. All of it, as well has his ability to sense the future, was linked somehow - this, Yoda was sure of. _How_ it was linked, he didn't know; he knew only that he was not like the others of his kind, and that this journey was as much about understanding himself as it was about escaping a gambling syndicate. (Not that he'd let on to his parents, of course, but they'd probably guessed it anyway.)

So here he was. Djandjuise. One of the grittiest, sleaziest, busiest spaceports this side of the galaxy. It was an odd choice for a stopover, perhaps, but Yoda's curiosity - as well as one of his bizarrely powerful hunches - had told him that he should disembark here.

'Disembarking' usually meant exiting whichever vessel he'd stowed away on via a discreet maintenance chute, but this time, he waltzed off the _Sssaminar_ as a legitimate passenger. He'd impressed the captain with his technological wizardry at a previous spaceport, and had been offered a free ride in exchange for his services; as a result, he'd spent the trip to Djandjuise stuck in front of the ship's computer, chipping away at what appeared to be copyright signatures from a vast variety of media files.

Ah, well. Helping data pirates hadn't been entirely square with his conscience, but the overwhelming feeling that he _had_ to get to Djandjuise had grown stronger with every parsec, and had convinced him that the ends just might - he hoped - justify the means.

Not that he knew what those ends were. Stupid hunches.

Getting off the _Sssaminar_ and bidding its serpentine captain goodbye, Yoda hurried out of the hangar as if propelled by the hand of Fate itself. And maybe he _was _guided by Fate; his hunch about Djandjuise had solidified into a peculiar compulsion, one that he couldn't shake off, and one that was, quite frankly, beginning to give him a headache. It wasn't so much that he wanted to obey whatever was telling him to leave the ship; it was just that if he _didn't _hurry up and leave, his head might explode.

Ouch. By the time he got past customs and out into the busy marketplace, the pounding in his head sounded like Terybdian war drums. People of various shapes, species and sizes pushed past him; the haggling and the hollering made his vision swim.

"Are you all right, young man?"

Yoda froze. For three simultaneous reasons - one, the ache in his head had just _vanished_, as if the sound of that voice was the antidote to all of life's ills - two, he'd just been called 'young man', not 'boy' or 'child' or 'brat' - and three, the voice spoke Standard. It always took Yoda a few moments to parse Standard. Such wacky lexical structure.

"Well I am, yes," he replied, turning around.

And froze again.

Not that there was anything particularly terrifying about what he saw - it was a middle-aged female, a Human, wearing a transparent blue fabric that, well, made it obvious. That she was a female.

For the first time, Yoda was inordinately glad not to have ear-tufts. Else, they might've quivered in a humiliatingly telling - not to mention _rude_ - manner. This female was four times his height. And she wasn't even of his species. Or his age. _Calm yourself, brat_, said a voice in his head - a voice that sounded a lot like his father's.

"Pardon me, you must." He had to stop staring. Except that his headache was gone, and... "A healer, are you?" He lowered his voice, so as to not be overheard. Perhaps she was possessed of extra abilities, like those he had heard stories of on his travels. If so, she might be able to help him understand himself - and his own very special powers.

"A healer?" A corner of the woman's mouth rose, and Yoda would've thought it a smile on another, but on this woman it just felt... wrong. The opposite of a smile. "My, my. Isn't that a charming euphemism?" She shifted off the wall in a movement that flowed like water - helped, perhaps, by her blue chemise. "Listen, young man. I can heal _all_ your wounds - even some you don't know about." She extended a finger, and Yoda was doubly grateful for his lack of ear-tufts when she ran that finger along the edge of his ear. "You're a Lannik, aren't you?"

A what? Oh. So _that's _why she'd been able to tell his age; she'd met Lanniks before, and they looked enough like Yoda's species that they could be confused for each other, especially by those that did not know that Lanniks matured at an entirely different rate. He would look like a child to his own kind, but like an adolescent to Lanniks.

Yoda debated; it would take too long to explain his homeworld's genealogical make-up, and something told him that she wouldn't be very interested. There was something strange about this woman. First, she caused the pain in Yoda's head to disappear, and then she answered his question about being a healer as if it wasn't a big deal. Surely having such powers would require more - pomp? - secrecy? - _something_.

"What I appear to be, I may yet be," Yoda hedged, eliciting a chuckle from the female.

"What you _appear _to be is in need of some serious healing, young sir. Shall I escort you to my consultation room?" The gleam of amusement in her eyes seemed genuine now. They were tired eyes, Yoda noticed - as if, despite that surface amusement, they wanted nothing more than to fall shut and never open again. What could make a person's eyes so tired? Especially a healer's?

But healing. Yes. He had to ask her about her powers, and if she could sense the future, too; if she could, then perhaps Yoda had come closer to uncovering the truth about himself than he'd ever hoped to do in Djandjuise. "Lead me there, you will," he said - and then, realizing how impolite his abrupt Standard may have sounded, he added, "Please."

"No need to _please_ me, darling. Not yet."

Saying those cryptic words, the female led him through the crowded street, staying under the shadowed awnings; she reached a dull red door, tall enough to welcome an overgrown Wookie, and knocked.

"It's Jela," she said, "here with a client."

There was the sound of a bolt being slid open. The door swung inwards.

Yoda felt an uneasy twinge. The creature that opened the door was not of a species he recognized, but it was menacing in that very particular way that Yoda had come to be wary of - a way that somehow signaled bloodshed if the creature's every directive weren't followed. He'd learned to avoid those types on his travels.

"Well?" The woman stepped in, with another water-smooth movement, and beckoned him after. "What're you waiting for?"

A healer couldn't be consorting with - no. There was something wrong here. His _hunches_ weren't telling him anything, so presumably he wasn't in mortal danger, but his common sense was telling him that not all was as it seemed. He stepped in gingerly, feeling dwarfed by the huge doorway and the equally huge creature guarding it - and was immediately inundated by a most unpleasant smell. Perfume, of the kind the woman was wearing, and something else - something _organic_ -

Oh. _Oh_.

There were two levels in this building. The one he was on was simply a small atrium, an entrance of sorts; on either side of it were staircases leading upwards, to another floor. A floor with a dimly-lit corridor, with several closed doors lining its length.

And what Yoda saw on _that_ floor was alarming.

Two Humans, one male and one female, were visible from where Yoda stood. Both wore that same see-through fabric, except that the female was bare to the waist and was engaged in what could only be the initial stages of sexual congress. With a male Twi'ilek. As Yoda gawked, she opened one of the doors after knocking, and escorted the Twi'ilek inside.

The Human male was similarly occupied, except that his companion was an elderly Thorian. He, too, guided the Thorian into one of those rooms.

Consultation rooms. _Those_ were the consultation rooms.

Damn it!

"Too... too poor for this establishment, I fear I am." Yoda took a step backwards. Then another.

The woman - Jela - was staring at him. "What?"

"Misunderstood, I did. A real healer, I thought - " Wait, no. Best not to reveal too much. His powers had gotten him into trouble before, and he didn't want a Djandjuise gambling syndicate chasing after him as well. "Too poor," he repeated, stressing his lack of funds as a potential proprietor.

He couldn't _believe_ his own stupidity. It should've been obvious that Jela was a sex worker! It was just that he'd never been approached like this before, and he'd never expected that such a thing could happen - but in retrospect, it became obvious to him that on the smaller spaceports, people had likely never seen a diminutive species like the Lanniks, and he'd looked too much like a child to be accosted by prostitutes.

Well, it seemed that Djandjuise was more enlightened. Here, Yoda looked like a possible client.

Damn it!

"Sorry," Yoda said, even going so far as dipping his ears in abject apology. This was terrible. He'd just misled this woman into thinking that she could have earned some money from him. Damn it, damn it. "Apologize, I do. Wholeheartedly."

"Stop right there, pal." A heavy paw fell on his shoulder. "You ain't goin' nowhere."

It was the creature guarding the door, and _ow_, that paw had claws. They dug into Yoda's flesh, until he was sure that his clavicle was _this_ close to crumbling under the pressure. "N-nowhere?"

In its growling voice, the creature continued: "What're you, an Enforcer? What the hell do you mean? You wasted Jela's time, here. Wasted _my_ time."

"Ulp." So they thought he might be an undercover Enforcer. A member of the law-keeping force, which, of course, implied that prostitution was illegal here...

Damn it! Stupid hunches. They were going to get him _killed_. Admittedly for the first time, but it wasn't like there could be a second.

"Forgive me, you must. Enforcer I am not. A traveler, merely. Not used to the ways of this city."

"Not _used_ to 'em, eh?" This from Jela, who had suddenly lost her water-supple grace as well as her sophisticated accent. "You seemed plenty used to 'em when you played word-games with me before, mister." She cocked her head. "Pay up. You bring me in, you pay me, got it? Or Sfarza here will wring your neck."

So the creature's name was Sfarza. Sfarza had very sharp claws.

_Dear Mother and Father,_ Yoda wrote an imaginary letter in his head, _Your son humbly begs your forgiveness for getting himself murdered in the brothel of a disreputable spaceport. Kindly lay his soul to rest if you find his remains - although it seems unlikely that you ever will._

"No money, I have," Yoda repeated helplessly. He really _didn't_ have any money - nothing except the barest credits to buy him a halcha tea. Or maybe a ground-meat loaf. Damn it, he could've at least had a last _meal_ if he was going to die. "I'm sor - "

WHAM.

The wall had just leapt onto Yoda's face. And was insisting on rubbing itself back and forth across his very painful, blood-filled nose.

Except that maybe it was _Sfarza_ who had shoved him against the wall, and was dragging him back and forth across it as if Yoda's face were a cleaning rag. Judging by the streaks of blood that Yoda's nose was leaving in its wake, however, he didn't make a very good cleaning rag.

Stars were going nova behind Yoda's eyes. How curious.

"Listen, punk. Lay the girl and pay the girl. What's the big deal?"

"Buy mates, my people do not," Yoda replied. His voice was a mere croak. "Besides, no money do I have. I'm sor - "

WHAM.

"Phlurt," said Yoda, mostly because now his _mouth_ was filled with blood, too. Although there was this absolutely hideous Zindari dish, wasn't there? Roasted something-or-other. Called phlurt. Or maybe glurt. He couldn't remember.

"Ease up, Sfarza. He's crazy. Never heard a Lannik say they didn't buy whores, before. Just take his money and let him go, would you?"

"Let 'im go? He'll tell the Enforcers. Might as well skin 'im and sell his organs. Bet there's a few Lanniks coming by who wouldn't mind buying 'em."

Jela didn't reply. Maybe she didn't like organ sales. Maybe she wasn't even in the room anymore. Maybe _none_ of them were in the room, and were instead in a doorless hell of acid vats, which would explain why acid was burning in Yoda's throat. Or maybe it was blood. Or bile. Or both.

"So you ain't gonna pay?" Sfarza pulled him away from the wall, dangling him above the floor as if he were a doll.

"Can't," Yoda wheezed. "I'm sor - "

WHAM.

_Ow. _A doorless hell. His nose was awfully close to the door, though, to its hinges where the door met the wall. There was a panel next to the hinges, but the door also had a bolt...

Ah.

Door.

Bolt.

Panel.

Suddenly, something very curious happened to the young wanderer named Yoda.

His head cleared. His pain faded - not from existence, but rather from _notice_, as something very like light poured into his mind. _Maybe I've cracked open my skull, and I can see the sky through it_.

It was _amazing_. Time slowed down, as if it weren't a measure of things passing but rather a liquid that could congeal and spread at will. It unfurled itself around him, revealing possibility after possibility. Potentialities in multiple dimensions.

He could see several things at once. The door was important. The panel was important. The bolt was even _more _important. Not because Yoda could escape through it - a sudden sharp trajectory of precognition told him that were he try to escape through that door, Sfarza would have him gutted before he hit the threshold - no, the door wasn't important because of _that_. Instead...

"Wait!" Yoda coughed. "W-wait!"

Sfarza paused, mid-wham. The wall halted a mere inch from Yoda's face; he could see his green blood smeared over it like an odd sort of signature.

"Your... your panel," Yoda said, breathing erratically, but determined to get his words out while he still could. "F-fix it, I can."

"_What _did he just say?" That was Jela, again. So she hadn't left the room.

"... panel. It is damaged. And the bolt, primitive. Bought the panel many years ago, you must have. A security panel. Yes? To spot Enforcers. Expensive to replace, it must be. But I can - fix it. For free."

Yoda panted. Saying all that had been exhausting, especially given that his jaw was probably unhinged. It hurt every time he moved it, anyway.

"You want to pay us... in services." Jela sounded incredulous. "Is _that_ what you're saying?"

"Expert on security algorithms and image recognition programs, I am. Your panel I can fix. Far in excess of the modest fee you would have asked of me, my services are."

"_Modest_? I charge a good deal for my beauty, young man."

That, more than anything else, told Yoda that he'd been right. Or the light in his head had been right, anyway. Because Jela was back to her pleasant tones, and even though Sfarza was still holding him aloft, the creature's arm no longer had in it the coiled muscular tension of another _wham_.

Yoda eyed the wall warily. It wasn't moving any closer.

"He could be lyin'," growled Sfarza, and shook Yoda, hard enough that his bones rattled. "Hey, if you're lying, I'll have your kidneys. Get me?"

"'Get' you, I most certainly do." Yoda refrained from mentioning that he didn't _have_ kidneys, as most humanoids - including the Lanniks - did. But what Sfarza didn't know couldn't hurt Yoda's chances. If it got him out of this situation, he'd let Sfarza believe that he had _ten_ kidneys.

"Set him down," said Jela, and Sfarza did - with all the grace of throwing spare parts onto a factory stack. Yoda hit the floor in a bundle of cloth and aching skin. Jela continued in what Yoda had surmised was her real accent: "I'll have to ask Madam about this. She'll probably say yes, though, since we've needed the panel fixed for _ages_, and we ain't been able to afford the repairs... And you've been stuck at the front door, 'stead of making the rounds like you used to." Her tired eyes were amused again. "Maybe she'll even gimme a bonus. What d'you think?"

"Doubt it," Sfarza grunted, nudging Yoda with a clawed foot. Yoda groaned. "Send Yakko to clean the walls and the floor. This damn Lannik made one 'ell of a mess."

"You're the meanest woman on Djandjuise, Sfarza," said Jela with laughter in her voice. "Don't kill him while I'm gone, all right?"

So Sfarza was a female. Yoda felt a moment of profound, absolutely selfless pity for her mate. If she had one.

And then, without further ado, he blacked out.

To Be Continued.

Please review!


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